Literature.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVI, Issue 191, 17 August 1904, Page 4

Literature.

! DISILUJSIONED 1 People said Dr. Stephens ought to ? Marry. He thought so himself; but '., aUherto he 'had been too busy promean? Jor keeping a wife, to I ' bestow much thought on whom she was to be. He had decided that the Iqdy , .must , have good looks, good •* means,' and he of a good position ; ttrot, though several ladies in I'erivjle fulfilled all these requirements, his \ , choice, had not yet fallen on any ' one* of them. And, besides, ho was ■ not in tbeiteast in love. It would be imprudent to venture the assertion that Dr. Stephens had ; always remained indifferent to the (_, pretty and, agreeable girls he had met in his wanderings ; and being; a fairly attractive fellow, as well as ~ Perivale's only medical practitioner, it is safe to say that eyes of every ; hue had looked upon him with more or less favour. 'r'-'Oh, yes. He had had his intermittent love affairs. There was Maglgie Scott. He had loved her to distraction for two months, when she wore , a particularly sweet thing in hats; when the hat went out of fashion, Dr. Stephens' love went with it. '* Again, there was Minnie Grey. His * heart in this case had capitulated to » tho peculiarly fascinating manner in . which the fair damsel lisped. He overhe a rd her speak to her brother once, and But these and others were but the idle dreamlets of a day, and Dr. Stephens sighed for the genuine article that wears well. He excused his • seeming inconstancy on the plea that love is a lottery, and, if one wishes 14 to win, one must at least try. So he accordingly played battledore with the hearts of the fair eligibles on his list of patients, and kept his eyes open and watched his heart carefully, expecting to experience some day that sudden sense of rapture—that magnificent thrill which, as everybody knows._is the first and true symptom of the proper, and the legitimate, and the all-suflicing love —the love Dr. Stephens sighed for. "It's all a matter of pulsation," _thc doctor assured himself. "If you 'thank you're in love, feel your pulse. Cupid's barometer is the thing to go by." ' One afternoon, about four o'clock, Dr. Stephens seated himself in his consulting room, and passed his fingers thoughtfully through his hair, which coukl not, even in courtesy, be called auburn. He was very WL-ary waiting for that magnificent thrill which he expected to experience some day, and he sighed pro--14 foundly as he glanced round the rathci dismal room. How uncomfortr ablo and cheerless it was 1 , to he sure ; how much it lacked the tender touches of a- woman's hand, the charm of a woman's presence. And \ the little low armchair by the heart*i 11 would it be filled by the * .gjyeet little form—the unknown but X doming somebody—that Dr. Stephens loved to picture in it ? How very nice it sounded, to he sure ! My—- . . little—wife—wife. My— wee— wife. My

"A letter, sir." It was the doctor's servant who broke in upon his reverie. He frowned as he lifted the letter carelessly from the table and opened it slowly. It was very brief, containing only these words :

"Dovecot House, Tuesday. "Dear Sir,—Please come and see me at once.—Yours truly, "Babs Grantley."

."Babs," he repeated. "What a funny name. Something nice uhout it, too. Some antediluvian spins- , ter, I suppose, whose name is the enly nfee thing about her. Imperious, too, by George ! I heard that there were new tenants ot Dover.nt." That is what John Stephens, M.D., as he signed himself, said before he saw Miss Harbara Grantley ; o nd when his well-appointed brougham rolled along Perivale's only street, and drew up in a pretty garden in frorit of Dovecot House, cur doctor, all " unconscious of 'nis impending fate, complacently jingled a couple of guineas in his trousers pocket, with the agreeable expectation ot soon adding a third. "Dr. Stephens," a nnoimc;d a Mniling little maid, in a low voice ; and as the doctor (advanced with the door closing behind him, it was to see that ho was in a prettily-furnished boudoir ; while reclining on a couch near the fireplace was a lady, who immediately acknowledged his presence by a charming smile and bow. And then ?—at last ! Dr. Stephens experienced that magnificent thrill ho had been waiting for so long. His heart thumped away, just as it ought to ; his legs trembled ; lie felt a cold shiver up and down his spine: his mouth opened and closed several times in an aimless sort of way : his pulse—'but, in brief, he rapidly experienced every symptom which attends and indicates the proper, tho legitimate, the genuine love. His happiness made him almost dizzy, and lie hod to seize hold of the chairs for support. Yes, this wus love; there could not possibly lie 'any mistake aibout it this time. Vainly he endeavoured to assume his usual matter-of-fact professional politeness-. His heart beat so fast he could hardly speak. "My patient, Miss Grantley, I presume. Would you—ah, lia " lie Jiiegan,- advancing towards the couch. With the assistance of the chair tbacks. How funny his logs felt, to [be sure. I "Would you-ah—ah ,"■ he repeated, taking Miss Grantley's prafwred hand—which little courtesy had

phe wonderful effect of sending a seKnid edition of that magnificent thrill through Stephens' sensitive

"Would you—all, ah ," he solemnly repeated, det.i mined to have it out this time, •'would you allow me to see your pulse and feel your tongue ?"

Now, Dr. Stephens had not the slightest intention of being amusing, but, to his infinite disgust, he discoverorl as soon as he spoke that Miss Urantley was greatly amused.' She pressed her handkerchief to her face and bit her lips ; but after a moment's futile struggle, she laughed outright, and evidently only checked herself when he looked so furious. I n consideration for his injured feelings, she assumed- an air of mild and preternatural seriousness. "It—it—isn't my pulse or mj' tongue," she gravely explained, "it is my ankle, sir, and only a slight sprain."

Dr. Stephens was excessively embarrassed. He was not altogether stupid ; and re a l'y, when we consider the suddenness of the thing it amply excuses the exhibition of a littlo foolishness and nervousness. And then to be askod to l o ok at and touch her ankle !—and a very pretty ankle it was, too. Apologising profusely, the doctor carefully—very carefully—examined the pretty little foot that just peepout from the many folds of Babs' skirts ; and he vowed—to himself—that he would gladly go on bathing and bandaging his fair subject far ever.

Babs certainly looked nice. She was a sm a ll and dainty young lady, with bonny, roguish blue eyes, and a wealth of wilful golden hair that frizzled over her brow, and looked as if it had been ruffled by many a sunny summer breeze. Dr. Stephens noticed with keen, observant eye the curling sweep of the long, brown lashes that shaded the delicatelyrounded cheek, and for the first time in his professional career physical weakness struck him as the most pathetic and attractive aspect under which he had ever studied woman. He took a long time bandaging that little foot, amd 'by the time if. was finished he had quite recovered himself. His touch seemed to do her foot good ; and Babs, watching the careful manipulation of the bandag. ing, and listening to the pleasant, cheerful voice assuring her that she would be well again in a few weeks, felt that, strong* though Dr. Stephens had been on arrival, «he cou'd have no kinder or more skilfui physician. Indeed, toy the ti.ne Dr. Stephens took his departure, she had voted him quite nice.

Dr. Stephens gave himself a month to accomplish the conojuest of Miss Grantley's foot and heart ; but hefore the third, week was at an ?nd he had realised that he had undervalued his powers of surgery and fascination. The sprain had certainly surrendered to his skill, and, building his faith on a dozen or so of smiles and glances, he allowed himself to entertain the a greca-!jle Uelief that her heart had also surrendered to himself. He had often been told that ho might choose a wifo when and where he liked, and, with consummate conceit, he had lately thought ; the same thing himself. Babs aleays seemed glad to see him, and she was wholly at ease with him. Indeed, she was always so gay and 'good humoured that Dr. Stephens glowed and flourished in his own idea-that ide a being that she was certainly very much in love with him. He would propose to her !

And then he fell into a delightful reverie, and pictured to himself the scene. He would kneel by that little couch by the firepl a ce and would ask her in tender phrases if she would .be his wife, and then he wondered would his darling faint, or would Mie sink gracefully into his arms and whisper, "Dear vouth, I will !"

Dressing one evening with the punctilious care born of a long bachelor life, and with many hesitating doubts and fears, Dr. Stiphens set out on an all important visit to Dovecot House—a visit fraught with matrimonial intentions.

With as martial a step as ho could command, Dr. Stephens went f'o Dovecot House, and instantly rang the bell very very tenderly. He must not, he thought, alarm his little darling. "I shall find my way, you need not trouble to come with me," he said to the smiling maid whose duty it was t 0 attend to the door and announce arrivals. "Miss Grantley, I presume, is in the fame room as isual ?"

"Yes, siir ; but please, sir, she's engaged just now." Hut the doctor did not hear. Slowly, very slowly, he went up the soft-carpeted staircase, and paused for a brief moment at the door before entering. His hoart had resumed its stentorian thumping; his legs trcmWcd—all, of course, in joy.'ul anticipation of his coming l,ai>piness. He softly turned the handle and opened the door. Hut, oh, what did the sight which met his gaze mean ?

Standing in the embrasure of the window, with his arm round Balis' waist, was a tall and fair stranger. fn his other hand lie held n small golden ring, which he was showing to her.

''lsn't it strange, darling?" Dr. Stephens heai-U this tall and fair, and unknown somebody say to— Balis, his Baibs !—"isn't it strange, darling, that within the little circle of this ring there should be so much happiness a nd love, and hope for you and me ? You must always wear it, dear, and, wearing it, remenilbr that our love, like it, is without end. Dabs !" he exclaimed, "Oh, Dabs, darling ! " Dr. Stephens did not wait to hear more. Softly, as softly as he had opened it, he closed the door, and slunk down the staircase like a convicted felon. Outside he leant against the garden wall and endeavoured to pull together his shattered energies.

'Shouldn't I just like to dissect that fellow, that's all !" he muttered. "But, no, I wouldn't," he added, in the same breath. "She—she loves him, and, and —that's something."